The Third Generation
by KGStutts
Summary: (a/u original cast) Sequel to BITW: The Next Generation. Jackson Good is the oldest son of Sandy Brooks and Sammy Good, the grandson of Kris Brooks and CM Punk. His mother continues to prove to the wrestling world that she's still BITW. Is Jackson another chip off of the Brooks family block or is he victim of the third generation curse?
1. Chapter 1

"Great job tonight, Jackson." My trainer, Lance, calls to me as I sit down on a bench to remove my boots.

"Thanks. See you tomorrow." I wave.

I check my watch as my wrestling boots fall to the floor. Shit. I'm late for dinner. "Gotta go."

"Don't run!" Lance yells as I bolt out the door.

No time for that. My parents will have my head if I'm late for our family dinner. I race home as fast as I could, nearly knocking the front door off of its hinges as I burst inside.

"I'm here, I'm here." I say as I toss my gear bag on the foyer floor.

"Don't worry, Mom is on a conference call." One of my brothers, Grayson, informs me.

"Everyone's running late tonight, even Grammy and Granddad." My other brother, Skylar, says.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God. My little sister, Mackenzie, wrinkles up her nose as she looks at me as I enter the kitchen. Dad's eyes rake over my appearance as I sit down at the table.

"Go get cleaned up." Dad orders.

"Yeah, Jack, you stink." Mackenzie says in a disapproving tone.

Grandpa chuckles as he brushes back his graying blonde hair from his eyes, but doesn't offer any assistance.

"Fine." I grumble, pushing away from the table.

I walk into the bathroom I share with my three siblings, giving my face and hands a quick wash and change into a cleaner shirt. Everyone seems to be arriving as I head back into the dining area.

Once a week, my entire large family gets together for dinner. When I say large, I mean large. My mom is the oldest out of four children. Aunt Rachel is after her, with Uncle Harry having my cousins Michelle and Madison. Aunt Mara and her husband Uncle Jayden have a son, Calvin, and Uncle Patrick is the youngest, with one child Peter.

Dad is the oldest out of two. Aunt Becky and Uncle Isaac also have two children, Tommy and Daniel.

Our family dinners is always something special for Mom. We're a large wrestling family, most of my relatives either were involved or are still involved with wrestling. All four of my grandparents are WWE Hall of Famers. I just wish Grandma had still been alive when she was inducted when I was ten.

Mom, Dad, Aunt Becky, and Uncle Patrick are still involved with the WWE. Aunt Rachel retired when I was still little, not long after she had Madison. Aunt Mara was involved with wrestling before I was born, quitting the WWE and focusing on MMA for a long time. She retired after a fight that resulted in her right leg being fractured in several places. Mom still wrestles from time to time, but mostly works in the office with the WWE. Dad recently stopped wrestling full time, instead is now an agent helping wrestlers put together their matches.

I just turned 18 during the summer, and have been training to wrestle for the last several months. The twins, Grayson and Skylar, are a year and a half younger than me. Mackenzie just turned 14.

"Hey, Jackson." Granddad warmly greets me, hugging me tightly.

The air rushes out of me as he gives me a squeeze. For an old man, he's still pretty strong. Grandma gives me a kiss on the cheek before turning her attention to the twins.

"Where's my Sweet Pea at?" Granddad asks.

I shake my head. Even at 45, Mom still gets called the nickname Granddad gave her when she was a baby. I'm just thankful that he never felt the need to bestow any of his grandchildren any terms of endearment like that.

"Video conference with Hunter." Dad explained.

"Tonight?" Granddad raised an eyebrow.

"It seemed pretty important." Dad said with a shrug.

"Better hurry before there is a riot." Grandpa jokes as Grayson and Skylar fight over the bread basket.

"Sorry about that." Mom breezes into the room, looking flushed.

I smile warmly at my mom. Out of the four of us, I'm the one that looks most like her, and takes after her too. People tell me all the time how much I am like her and my grandfather, who used to wrestle as CM Punk. The twins have the same shade of brown hair that I do, but have Dad's blue eyes. Mackenzie looks like Dad, with her sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes.

"Everything okay?" Dad asked, giving Mom's hand a squeeze.

"You can say that." Mom slowly said, looking like she's partially in shock.

"Sandy, you're kind of freaking me out right now. What is it?" Dad asked.

"Uh, okay." Mom exhaled deeply, locking eyes with Dad. "Sammy has probably told you while you were waiting on me that I was in a conference with Hunter."

"He mentioned that." Grandpa nods.

"Which is highly unusual." Grammy comments.

"Right." Mom says, taking in a shaky breath. "Hunter is stepping down from his board duties. He's named me his replacement."

"What?" I blurt out.

My family erupts in a mixture of exclamations, gasps, and shock. Granddad yells over the crowd, "Quiet!"

Once everyone settles back down, Granddad motions over to Mom. "What did Hunter say?"

"He says that he's been grooming me for a while and wants me to take over." Mom slowly says, as if she still doesn't quite believe it.

"Wait a minute." Dad shakes his head, also in disbelief. "Hunter asked you to take over the WWE?"

"Actually, he wants us to run it." Mom says.

"Well, what did you say?" Dad asks.

"I...I said I would have to talk to you. I promised to get back to him before Raw."

"Sweet Pea." Granddad's gentle voice calls over to Mom. "What are you thinking?"

"I..I think I want to do it. I mean, Hunter says that a wrestling company should be run by a wrestler. He loves what I've been doing with creative the last few years. Our stock is up, ratings are at an all time high, and the talent has been happy. He thinks I can do it. But I don't know anything about running a business. I'm a wrestler."

"I think that's Hunter's point." Grammy spoke up. "You would have business advisers and a board of directors that handle all that stuff. He wants you to take over the wrestling aspect."

"What do you think?" Mom turns to Dad.

"Honestly? How many opportunities are going to come our way like this? I think we have to." Dad says.

"Do it, Mom!" Grayson exclaims.

"Yeah, Gray and I can help when we're not in school." Skylar chimes in.

"Do it, Aunt Sandy." My cousin Michelle encourages.

"You're the best in the world, right?" Aunt Becky asks with a teasing gleam in her eye.

"Got the title belt to prove it." Mom says with a grin.

"Think of this as just another way to prove it. I'm sure Hunter will still be hands on for a while. And if it doesn't suit you, I'm sure Stephanie will hire a replacement. Hey, maybe it'll be me. So, either way, we're good." Aunt Becky jokingly says.

Mom laughs, giving Aunt Becky a playful slap on her shoulder. "I guess we're going to do this, then."

Dad reached over and takes Mom's hand in his. "I believe we can do this."

She gives his hand a squeeze before they let go.

"Well, now that that's settled." Mom says, clapping her hands together. "Let's it. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."


	2. Chapter 2

After dinner, I reteated to the quiet that is my bedroom. I love my family, but when we get together, even a saint would be thinking of a few choice words after a while.

The adults had settled in to talk over coffee and pick at the remaining cake while my siblings and younger cousins fought over the remote. I'm stuck in the middle: too young for coffee, too old to fight with the kids.

What a day. I plop myself down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Madison, that's not yours!" Skylar yell.

"It's not yours either, give it!" Madison yelled back, followed by a loud crash.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I needed to get out of the house.

I sat up after a long knock on my bedroom door. "Come in."

Mom gave me an apologetic smile as she stepped in and shut the door behind her. "You feeling alright?"

"Yeah." I said, shrugging. "Just needed to step away for a little bit."

Mom nodded and sat down on the bed next to me. "I wanted to see how you were doing after my little announcement."

"Little?" I sputtered. "Mom, you running the WWE is not a little announcement!"

"I know, Jackson." She said, patting me on the knee. "Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are."

"I think it's great, Mom. Honestly."

"I'm sure Hunter and Stephanie will always be around, much like Vince was up to the day he died."

"Nervous?" I asked.

"You can say that. I'll talk to your granddad and your father later. I'm sure they will set me straight." Mom said with a grin.

I couldn't help but return her smirk. "They always do."

"That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about."

Uh oh. I know that look. She looked into my brown eyes for a moment, waiting for a response for me. When I merely nodded, she continued.

"Sweetheart, your dad and I have been saying for a while that the road you chosen with wrestling won't be an easy one to travel down. You have pretty much your entire family to contend with, and people are going to be comparing you to us. I was always compared to my father. I loved and hated that."

"But you _are_ just like Granddad." I pointed out.

"I am, but it gave me something to prove. Not only did I have to prove something to myself, but to everyone else. It can be daunting when you are constantly compared to someone as great as your Granddad was."

"You seemed to do okay." I looked over at her warily.

"But, son, as much as you are like me, you aren't me. I don't expect you to be me, your dad, either of your grandparents. I don't expect you to wrestle like any one of us or to cut promos like I could. Don't pattern yourself after anyone. I just want you to be Jackson."

I smiled big at my mom. I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. "I love you."

"I loves Jackson." She said with a grin.

Her chocolate brown eyes glossed over, like they tend to do when she's lost in a memory. After a second, she snapped herself out of it.

"You know you don't have to be a wrestler." She said as she kissed my forehead.

I wiggled away from her. "Mom, cut that out."

She laughed at my reaction. "I miss my sweet, happy baby that would giggle at my kisses."

"Mom..." I stopped myself. I was borderlining on whining. "I want to be a wrestler."

"It's just that not everyone is cut out for it. Rachel thought she was until her ankle was broken. She was never quite the same after that."

"But Aunt Rachel was great in the ring, even when she returned." I said.

"I think her injury took a lot out of her. Plus she had your cousins. I didn't blame her, after that injury. I told you the story?"

I nodded. We had all heard the story of a girl breaking Aunt Rachel's ankle on purpose because she thought that Granddad was her father. She was trying to get his attention and revenge. It ended up being a lie told by the girl's mother. I remember being told that the fallout was brutal.

"I think she was happier when she quit and went into acting." She sighed as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. "I don't expect you to make the same choices that I did. I trust you. You've just begun training and everything is at your feet right now. Don't feel like you have to do something because of me or any of us, for that matter."

"Does that include staying in Chicago?" I tentatively asked.

Mom paused, running her tongue across her teeth. "Are you thinking about moving?"

"Well, some of us are thinking about going down to Texas to train. It would be a great opportunity. You know, start fresh?"

I know that no matter where I go, I'll always be compared to my family. It's inevitable. But it feels like the entire city knows my family. I had wondered what it would be like to start in a new city.

The look in Mom's eyes told me she was getting ready to protest, so I quickly launched into my explaination.

"It's just that, here, I have you all to fall back on. If I am to succeed, I want to do it on my own merit. I want to build a reputation, not step on yours."

"That's very mature of you, Jackson, but you just turned eighteen."

"Mom, you're going to worry about me regardless if I'm in Austin or down the street."

"I can come get you if you get into trouble down the street." She told me.

"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about." I said, jumping off the bed.

"Jack.."

"Mom, please don't block me from going." I pleaded.

"Block you?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

I had to cut my eyes away. Wrong choice of words.

"You mean to say that you're going regardless of what I say?"

"You said it yourself, I'm eighteen now. I am allowed to make my own choices."

"Oh, Jackson..." The look of pain etched on her face.

"I'm not saying I'm going soon. Just that I'm thinking about it." I quickly told her.

"Alright, can we table this discussion for now? Maybe for when we can sit down with your father?" Mom asked.

I eagerly nodded. At least she wasn't yelling or telling me I was stupid for wanting to go. I sighed, looking at her hesitantly.

"What is it?" Mom asked, reading my face.

"Would I upset you if I used the name Moxley when I started wrestling?"

Mom couldn't hide the shook from her face. It took her a moment, but she cleared her throat. "Why?"

"Pay homage to Grandpa." I told her.

"I get that, Jackson, but why wouldn't you use Ambrose?"

"Because I don't want to be compared to Dad. And if I use Brooks, I'll just get compared to you."

Mom didn't look happy at all, not that I could blame her. "Let's talk about this when it comes time for you to wrestle, okay?"

"Alright." I relented.

"Good. By the way, just because I'm in the WWE offices, doesn't mean you'll be granted a contract. You're going to have to earn it, just like everyone else."

"I wouldn't expect anything less." I agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

"Again." My trainer, Lance, ordered.

My partner, Travis, hip tosses me. I land with a thud on the mat.

"Again." Lance told us.

We've been doing drills for over an hour now. As much as Lance had us doing the same move over and over, I was beginning to wonder if he was sadest.

"Pick your feet up, Jackson. Again." Lance instructed.

If only I knew how to throw a proper clothesline. I glared up at him, but got to my feet. Once again, Travis gave me a hip toss.

"Better." Lance finally nodded. "Now, run the ropes until I blow my whistle."

After a few minutes, I start getting winded, but Lance doesn't blow his whistle. I eventually stop, trying to catch my breath.

"What are you doing, Good? I didn't tell you to stop." Lance questioned.

I held up my hand as I took in a sharp intack of air. "Just a..."

"Come on, Good." Lance shook his head at me.

He gave me a hard shove, forcing me to hit the ropes. I breathed in deeply but started to run again.

"Atta boy." Lance said.

Travis and I continued to run for another minute before Lance blew his whistle.

"Go get some water." He instructed.

"You alright, Jack?" Travis asked me as we rolled out of the ring.

I couldn't say anything just yet. Travis hands me a bottle of water from the cooler, which I down instantly.

"Yeah." I finally respond.

"Man, you need to get in the gym." Travis shook his head. "Get your conditioning up."

"You think?" I sharply asked.

"Hey, whatever man. You want to go later?"

Actually, yeah, that would be a good idea. I agree just as Lance blew his whistle again.

"I'd love to make him choke on it." I murmured under my breath as we walked back to the ring.

We continued training for another hour before the session was over. I sat down on a bench, physically exhausted and thirsty, as I started talking off my boots.

"Not bad, kid." Lance told me as he took a seat next to me.

"Are you trying to kill me?" I asked.

Lance chuckled. "If you can't handle that, I have to question whether or not you really want this."

"No, I do." I automatically said.

"Good, because I'm not going to go easy on you. I don't care about your linage. When you step into the ring, it's my reputation on the line. I put my name on you."

"I won't let you down." I told him.

Lance studied my eyes for a second before nodding. "You're a good guy, Jack. I would hate for the third generation curse to get you."

"Wait, what?" Travis asked.

"Have you not heard of the third generation curse?" Lance shook his head in disapproval. "A lot of second generation wrestlers tend to take after their parents. Not always the case, of course, but more often than not. However, there are a lot less successful third generation wrestlers than there are second."

"No way is this a real thing." I chimed in.

"Think of another successful third generation wrestler, other than the Rock?" Lance challenged.

"Randy Orton." I said automatically.

"That's one." Lance held up a finger.

"Chavo Guerrero Jr." Travis said.

"Okay, boys, think of a third generation wrestler who isn't your grandparents age." Lance told us.

Travis and I both looked at each other, coming with a loss.

"Exactly. Guys, third generation wrestlers died off years ago. I can think of a few, but none that I would say was successful. For every Randy Orton and The Rock, there are Curtis Axel and Lacey Von Erich."

"That's not going to be me." I defiantly said.

"I hope not, Jackson. I sincerely hope not." Lance told me.

"Wait, his mother and grandfather was the best in the world. Surely Jackson will earn his stripes." Travis hopefully said.

I gave my friend an encouraging smile. Lance, however, chuckled.

"Oh yeah? Well, he's got an awful lot to prove and is a long ways from the mark."

"Isn't that your job to get me there?" I asked.

"Oh, burn." Travis grinned.

"I can only do so much. You've got to put in everything you've got, kid." Lance said.

"I will." I vowed.


	4. Chapter 4

I came home several hours later, mentally and physically exhausted. After training, Travis and I hit the weights at the gym and then ran two miles. All the while, Lance's words were stuck in my brain.

I've always felt like wrestling was what I was meant to do. It runs through my veins thicker than the blood does. I spent most of my life either on the road with my parents or being with my wrestling grandparents in Chicago. Wrestling is life. It's my life.

I never gave much thought if I would be good in the ring or not. I've had a little bit of a rough start in training, but I've only been in the ring for two months. I never doubted that I would get better, that I would constantly improve. And I have. But I've always looked up to my mother, who it just came so naturally for. Granddad used to joke that she wasn't born, she was cloned.

I really don't know what I would do if I failed. I never thought about it.

Lance's words continue to echo in my brain, making sleep impossible. I quietly walk down the hall, listening to the sounds of my slumbering family before I head out the door.

I just need fresh air to clear my head. I wander aimlessly around the quiet neighborhood, completely lost in my thoughts. I stumbled across my grandfather's house, unsurprised to see that the lights were off but the flickering of the TV reflecting in the windows.

I didn't knock as I came in. Grandpa didn't look over at me as I sat down on the other end of the couch.

"It's 4am, Jackson." Grandpa gruffly said.

"I'm aware." I told him.

He kept his eyes glued to the TV as he sipped on his beer.

I've seen this many times over the years, since Grandma died. He was watching an old video from when before Dad was born. A twenty-something Grandma smiled brightly towards the camera, telling a story animatedly.

"Do you remember that, Cowboy?" Grandma asked, turning to Grandpa.

"Absolutely." He nodded, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"Tyler ended up taking out the sister on a date to smooth things over." Grandma smiled over at her friend.

It always struck me as odd that she would call him Tyler. Everyone else always called him Seth. But he went by Tyler Black before joining the WWE and that's when he met Mom, back when they were both on the independent circuit.

"Oh God, that was the date that would not end. Don't you ever do that to me again." Tyler told her.

"Sorry, Ty Ty. You know I love you." Grandma said, chuckling.

"The only reason you're still alive is that I love you too." Tyler tried to sound stern but failed.

Grandma laid her head on Grandpa's shoulder, snuggling up to him. "I'll love you forever, my Cincinnati cowboy. Always. Insanely. Passionately. Deeply. Madly."

The look on her face and her tone made me smile.

"I miss her." I said.

Grandpa nodded, taking another swig from his beer. "Every damn day."

I watched the young couple embrace on the screen, feeling sorry for him. Grandma got sick when I was young, but I had fond memories of her. She was always so strong and tough, up to the end.

"Have you ever heard our story?" Grandpa asked.

"Very little." I admitted.

"We met when we were teenagers. She moved to Cincinnati from Charleston due to her father's job. Her mother hated me, which only grew worse when she found out that our relationship had...progressed."

"You mean?"

"She caught us having sex, yes. I was thirteen at the time. Kris was sixteen. Her mother forced her back to South Carolina. We were separated for over ten years."

He stared at the screen, watching their younger selves laugh with each other.

"It was hell being away from her. It's hell now."

"I never want to fall in love." The words left my mouth before I even thought about it.

Grandpa finally turned to look at me, anger burning in his eyes.

"Jackson, you're eighteen. You have no fucking clue."

"I've seen it enough to know what it can do. Mom told me the story once of when Grammy nearly died right after I was born. Granddad nearly went with her. And I've watched you drown in sorrow since losing Grandma."

"Love doesn't make you weak, Jack. It fills you up, makes you whole."

"But when you lose someone you love that much, they take a part of your soul with you." I told him.

Grandpa looked like he was going to argue with me. Instead, he gave me a shrug.

"Is love what has you up at 4am?"

"No." I shook my head. "Wrestling does."

"Ah, I should have known." Grandpa chuckled.

"Have you ever heard of the third generation curse?" I asked.

Grandpa chuckled again, only this time I didn't hear the humor in his voice.

"Who told you about that?"

"So this is a real thing?" I asked.

"Kid, I've known many third generation wrestlers who were amazing. I've also known some that couldn't lace up their boots properly."

"I don't want to be the latter." My shoulder slumped.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you're my grandson. You may look like your mother, but you act just like your father. Which means you act like me."

"I don't want to be compared to you or anyone." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"It's going to happen. It's a way of life in this business."

I grumbled under my breath, slumping deeper into the couch.

"Jackson, the third generation curse only has power if you give it."


	5. Chapter 5

My grandfather's words roamed in my head the rest of the night and into the morning. Mom eyed me warily as I sat down at the table for breakfast, picking at the food in front of me.

"You've barely touched your eggs. Is something wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing worth talking about." I grumbled.

"Dean said that you paid him a visit last night." Mom mentioned.

"Yep."

"Jackson, if something is bothering you, I wish you would tell me. You know you can come to me for anything."

"I know."

Mom watched me for several more minutes before shaking her head.

"Alright, son. Your choice."

"Sandy, leave the boy alone." Dad told her. "He'll talk when he's ready."

"I said I'm fine." I snapped.

I knew better than to snap at my parents, but right now, I just didn't care.

"You're excused from the table." Mom sharply told me.

"Yup." I said, pushing away and leaving the room.

"Whatever happened to my happy, giggling baby?" Mom asked as I was leaving the room.

"He grew up, San."

I balled my hands up into fists as I stomped out of the room. I heard Mom yell at me as I slammed my bedroom door shut, but didn't bother to do anything about it. I grabbed my iPod and my hoodie and ran down the stairs.

"Jackson! Come here, young man." I heard Mom call.

"I'm not a little kid anymore!" I bellowed as I threw open the front door and ran outside.

I ignored the buzzing in my pocket as I put on my earbuds and started to run. I know there would be consequences later, but I couldn't care less right now. Anger boiled under my surface and I had to let some of it go. If anyone asked me why I was so mad, I couldn't explain it, but I completely understood my anger. And I felt justified.

I think it was while I was running that I made my decision. It certainly wouldn't be a popular one with my family, but it's my life to lead, not theirs. Rebellion was coursing through my veins, sending me further along than I had anticipated. I thought about my parents and the road that they traveled. Mom and Dad always had to prove themselves to be better than my grandparents and had succeeded, but not without losing something along the way. Mom was too much like her father; of course she could claim to be best in the world. And my father...just like his in the ring. Smart, slightly unbalanced. If I was going to be compared to anyone, at least I had someone like them for reference.

But the idea that either I would be held up to their standards and fail..that's more than I could stand.

I called up Travis and made my plans.

"Are you serious?" Travis asked, sounding completely in shock.

"As a heart attack." I said.

"Good, if we do this, there wouldn't be any going back."

"I'm well aware of the repercussions."

"Alright, man. Do what you've got to do. I'll see you tomorrow."

I checked my phone messages: 5 missed calls from each of my parents as well as the bevvy of text messages. I sigh. It's time to face the music.

As soon as I walked back through the door, my mother was yelling at me.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" She demanded. "Snapping back at us, slamming doors, running out of the house like that. It's not like you, Jackson."

"Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't get any sleep last night." I apologized.

"Sandy, the boy is overtired and stressed. Let's cut him a little slack." Dad said, putting a gentle hand on her arm.

Mom took in a deep breath and sighed. She gave Dad's hand a squeeze as she started to calm down.

"Jackson, I know you're eighteen now and have a lot going on. I get that, I do. But as long as you're in this house, please obey our rules."

"Yes, ma'am." I nodded.

"If you want to be treated like an adult, you should start acting like one." Mom told me.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alright, come give me a hug."

I did so without hesitation, hugging Mom to me tightly. She wrapped her arms around me, pressing my cheek into her forehead.

"I love you, Jackie."

"I love you too, Mom. I'm sorry."

The rest of the day seemed to drag on by. I went to the gym again with Skylar and Grayson. Dad and I watched wrestling. I spent some time with Mackenzie roller skating. I helped Mom with her computer. Dinner was the usual loud affair, with my siblings squabbling over something that I wasn't quite paying attention to. I just couldn't help but grin as I watched them argue.

"Jack, are you okay?" Dad asked.

"Yep." I said with a small grin.

Dad ruffled my brown hair, joking that it was time for a haircut.

Dad played his guitar later that night and told some of the same stories that we've all heard countless times before, but never cared. I kissed them all goodnight when they turned in for bed.

I left a note on my empty bed, apologizing for the heartache I was getting ready to cause, asking for forgiveness and hoped that they could understand. When they woke up in the morning, I was already in Austin.


	6. Chapter 6

I felt like a coward, disappearing off into the night like I did. I knew the fallout would be severe and I thought I could handle the consequences. I had no idea how hard the hammer would come down on me.

I sat on my bed in my hotel room in Austin, staring down at my phone. Sleep failed to come to me again, not that I had expected it to.

I had responded to an ad online from a woman looking for a roommate, but the current roommate wouldn't be moving out for another week. Looks like this hotel room would be home in the meantime.

I kept checking my phone every few minutes, seeing if I had gotten a call or a text from anyone. It's after 9am, surely someone was awake at home.

I couldn't bring myself to call Mom or Dad. I knew they would call me once they read the note. I knew Mom would be furious. I knew she would get mad, then beg me to come home, then blow up. Then, she would either calm down enough to be supportive or it would get worse. I would have to tread the conversation carefully in order to keep her from going nuclear.

Fifteen minutes later, my phone started to buzz. I took a deep breath seeing Mom come up across the display.

"Hello?" I answered unsurely.

"Hello? Hello? Is that what you've got to say for yourself?" Mom angrily asked.

"Mom, I can explain..."

"You'd better start explaining. Jackson Dean Good, what the hell is going through your mind?"

"I told you-"

"No, son. We said that we would talk it out with your father like adults. Running off during the night, leaving me a note on your bed, is not talking it through like adults!"

"I know, Mom." I quickly got the words out before she would cut me off again.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"No, Mom, of course not. I just needed to get out of Chicago. I need to strike out on my own."

"Strike out...Sammy, are you hearing your son?" Mom's voice called to the distance.

"I hear him." Dad's voice sounded pained as he responded.

"Jackie, come home now and we'll be able to put this behind us." Mom's voice quickly changed from angry to pleading.

This was what I had expected. I almost breathed a sigh of relief in hearing the anger gone from her voice.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Jackie, come home, please. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom." I wiped the tear from my cheek. "I just can't do that until I'm ready."

"Jack, the time to strike out on your own is after you've gone through training. Do you have any idea what could happen to you in Austin and no one would be there to protect you?"

"Mom, I don't need your protection." I told her, my voice sounding stronger than I felt. "I'm sick of being under your wing. I don't want to be known as-"

I managed to put on the brakes before I said something I would truly regret. I could almost hear my mother's eyes narrow as she completed my thought in her head.

"Known as what? My son?"

"That's not entirely what I meant-"

"What did you mean, Jackson?"

"I mean, I want to forge my own name, not build on one from you or Dad."

"You mean, like me. Is that what you think I did?"

Crap. This wasn't how I wanted this conversation to go. I needed to quickly backtrack and fix this before she explodes.

Only, I wasn't fast enough.

"Is that what you think I did?" She asked again. "Build my reputation based on _my_ parents?"

"Your entire life, you've been compared to Granddad and Grammy."

"And everyone thought that my success was because of them. People told me that the only way I would make it in wrestling was because of them. That pushed me to be better than anyone thought possible, Jackson. The name I created was my own. Your father embraced how much like his father he was. You have the power within you to make you own destiny."

"I just want that same opportunity." I told her. "I wanted to go somewhere that didn't have expectations of me. Where I could just be me and not your son."

I knew as soon as she fell silent that I had said the wrong thing. My mind raced, trying to figure out how to correct it.

I was too late.

"Jackson, you sound like you're ashamed to be my son."

"No, not what I said-"

"You don't want to be known as my son? You want to live in a place that doesn't know your family."

"Not out of shame-"

"Then I'm going to make it real easy for you."

I had never heard Mom sound so angry or hurt before. The mixture in her voice was hurting me, but not nearly as much as her next words.

"You've got your wish. From this point on, you're not a part of this family."

"No, Mom!"

"You'll not get any assistance from anyone in this family. You're cut off. Once we end this conversation, your cell phone will be cut off. Your debit card will be frozen. You do not contact us. If I hear about you reaching out to any of _my _family, I will rain down the hurt on you. My two sons and daughter will not respond to any communication from you. Neither will my husband or my parents."

"Please, Mom!" I begged.

"I don't want to cause you any further shame, Jackson. I wish you the best of luck in the future."

And with that, the call ended.

My heart was breaking in my chest as I tried to quickly call her back. It immediately went to voice mail. My attempt to call Dad failed fast as well.

"I'm sorry, but this line isn't accepting your call at this time." Is the message I got when I tried to call Granddad.

He must have been in the room with Mom and Dad for him to have blocked me that quickly. My next try was to call Grandpa, but my phone gave me a message saying that I no longer had service.

My body shook as I dissolved into tears. I tried to call home from the phone in the hotel room, but no one answered. It must have come up as Austin on the caller id, so no one picked up.

And just like that, I was truly on my own.


	7. Chapter 7

I spent the next day trying everything I could think of to reach anyone in my family. After getting a new phone and number, I called everyone, but no one answered. I left texts and voicemails but none were returned. Skype went unanswered. No response on any social media.

That's when the anger started.

Okay, so what if what I said was wrong. Does that give my entire family the right to turn their back on me? Not a single one of them would stand up to my mother? What the hell gives her the right to cut me off like that? I've seen her treat strangers better than she's treating me. Her own flesh and blood. Her oldest son.

Screw them. If they are going to be that way, I don't need them.

I'm going to do what I set out to do: I'm going to become a better wrestler than they even dreamed of and shove it in their faces.

How could I be so easily discarded?

I got online and saw the announcement that Mom had been named COO. She was now officially in charge of the WWE. Great. So now instead of being happy for her, I've got to contend with the fact that I've royally pissed off the most powerful woman in wrestling.

I got a job the next day, stocking shelves at a grocery store nearly soon-to-be new apartment. It paid decently and I had to have money coming in. After securing employment, I met up with the wrestling school I had made contact with prior to leaving home.

"Name's Derek Rose." The head trainer introduced himself, shaking my hand.

"Great to meet you." I said.

"Where are you from, kid?" Derek asked.

"Chicago."

"The Windy City? Lots of great wrestling up there. What brings you to Texas?"

"Texas is a hot bed as well. I just ran into some family problems, thought I would escape." I admitted.

"I hear ya. Family is tough, man. You're pretty young. How old are you?"

"I'm 18." I told him.

"Alright, let's see what you got." Derek said.

"Excuse me?"

"Strip down to your underwear. I need to see what you're working with."

"Is that really necessary?" I asked.

"This is a full training program, kid. Not only are you going to learn now to wrestle, but I'm going to put you on a weight training schedule. You will eat what I say, when I say. You will do the work outs I give you. You got it?"

I swallowed hard. "Yep."

"Good. Now I've got to see your base so we can get you on a program. Now, strip."

I did as I was told, removing all clothing till I'm standing before him in my boxers. Derek poked and squeezed my arms and stomach, looking me over thoroughly.

"Not bad. Got a decent body. How much do you weigh?"

"175 lbs."

"You're skin and bones, kid. No wonder you ran away from home. They didn't feed you." Derek teased.

I tried to chuckle, but I didn't find his comments as humorous as he did.

"Don't worry about it. I'll have you in great shape in no time."

I nod as I got back dressed.

"What's your name, kid?"

I had thought about that before I even left Chicago. I had thought originally to go by Philip or Dean, in honor of my grandfather's. I contemplated saying Sam, in respect to my dad. But after the fight with Mom, I didn't want to use any of them. Instead, I said the first name that came to me when Derek asked.

"Connor Jackson." I stated.

"Well, Connor, welcome. Get changed, kid, and get in the ring."

The session went great. Derek was an excellent trainer, taking time with me and showing me a lot.

After working out in the ring, Derek took me to a gym and showed me some weight training.

"Not bad, kid. You show a lot of promise. This will be your only training session with me until you get into the advance stages. Tomorrow you will meet with Dylan and the rest of the beginners."

I nodded in agreement. Derek gave me a list of required foods, daily intake amounts, and times to eat.

"This seems like a lot." I commented.

"You need it to build muscle. Trust me. I've been doing this for twenty years."

"Yet you never went to the WWE." The thought escaped my lips before I coul think about it.

Derek's eyes narrowed. "You don't have to work for the WWE in order to be successful, Jackson."

I swallowed hard and quickly apologized.

"If that's where you want to go, then you have to follow every instructions. This is a competitive industry and only the best even get a look at, especially when Punk's hardass daughter running the show."

The resentment in his voice was unmistakeable. I looked over at him in surprise at the way he spoke about Mom.

"What?" I never heard anyone describe my mother that way.

"Sandy Brooks is just like her father. Thinks she knows everything, won't admit when she's wrong, and is unforgiving. You don't want to get on her bad side." Derek bitterly said.

"Are you speaking from experience?" I asked.

"Don't worry about that. Just focus on your training. Mind your own business, kid." Derek flatly told me.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped my bounds."

"You'll learn. Now, get in the pool. I want you to swim laps until I blow my whistle."

By the time the whistle blew, I felt like I would never get the water out of my ear. Derek grinned at me as he handed me a towel.

"Really not bad, kid. Pretty good for your first day. I'll be eager to hear a report from Dylan regarding your progress. Now, get out of here."


	8. Chapter 8

I was a mixture of nerves and giddiness as I went to training the next day. I thought I would be the first to arrive until I saw a breathtakingly beautiful, raven haired woman leaning up against the ring. My heart thudded in my ear as I stopped dead in my tracks.

I had never seen a more perfect creature. She was medium height and an athletic body. Her tank top had been cut to reveal her well-toned stomach. I felt the hair on my arms stand on end when her lavender eyes met mine.

"You must be Connor. Derek told me you were starting today." Her sweet Southern accent sounded like music in my ears.

She offered me her hand, which I all-too-eagerly shook. She grinned at me, sending chills down my spine.

"A man of few words. I like that in a rookie. I'm Dylan, by the way. Dylan Rose."

"Dylan Rose?" I repeated.

She chuckled. I mentally start kicking myself. I must sound like an idiot to her.

"Derek is my older brother." Dylan told me.

"Cool." I grinned at her.

I knew I sounded like I didn't have a brain in between my ears. At that moment, it felt like it had been turned to mush.

"You looked surprised to see a woman trainer. This isn't going to be a problem for you, I hope."

"Not at all." I immediately said.

I had to stop myself from saying that my Aunt Becky would remove my head from my shoulders if I did have a problem with it. Of course, in order for that to happen, Aunt Becky would have to speak to me. Well, not necessarily.

"Good."

We chatted idly for a good twenty minutes before the others started arriving. She's a good five years older than me, but has been wrestling since she was thirteen. Born and raised in Abilene, only having recently moved to Austin to help her brother with the training school.

When it came time to answer questions about my family, I gave very vague answers. I didn't want to lie to this woman, but I wasn't going to ruin my fresh start.

A part of me was relieved when other trainees started to show up. There was fifteen in all, including myself. Dylan made us run drills for the first hour before we got into anything.

She had me chain wrestle with a big guy named Arik for about twenty minutes before she stopped us.

"Very good, Connor. You kept up with Arik and not many can say that." She said.

"You've got good instincts. It's going to serve you well." Arik told me.

"I appreciate it, guys."

We practiced drop kicks for a while. I showed some of the guys how I was trained to throw a punch, which they liked.

"That looks great. You don't pull back and it really looks like you're laying it in." Dylan noted.

"Thanks." I stopped myself before I said that Dad showed me.

Wow, this is going to be harder than I thought. My family keeps popping up in my head.

"Alright, guys, good practice. Remember, tomorrow is gym day. Keep up your schedules." Dylan said, calling an end to the day.

I knew I was supposed to stick to my fitness routine, but decided a run couldn't hurt. After I laced up my tennis shoes, I put in my earbuds and jogged outside. I didn't hear anyone call my name over the blaring of the music. I stopped quickly after feeling someone tap me on the shoulder.

"Wow, you run pretty fast." Dylan said, slightly out of breath. "Been running after you for a few minutes."

"Sorry about that." I said, pulling out the earbuds. "What's up?"

"Um, never mind." Dylan shook her head.

"No, you chased after me so it must have been something." I told her, grabbing her arm before she had the chance to run off.

"I just figured, with you being new in town and not knowing anyone, that you would like to come to a party with me." She shyly stated.

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah. You do like to party, don't you?" She asked.

"Yeah." I nervously said.

"Great!" She brightly said. "Come with me." She said, grabbing my hand.

A part of me wondered if this was a prank. Someone was ribbing the rookie. But still, figured if it was a joke, better follow along and take it like a man and not make it worse.

I followed Dylan to a swank house in the woods. The party was in full swing when we arrived. People were dancing to the music in the yard, laughing and having a great time. As soon as we entered, someone put a red dixie cup in my hands.

"What's this?" I asked stupidly.

"It's a party, man! Have a beer." The drunken man told me, slapping me hard on the back.

"It's okay to unwind, Connor. You're among friends." Dylan told me.

She took the cup from my hands and drank from it, before handing it back to me with a grin.

I couldn't help but return her smile, taking my first gulp of beer.

"Oh, that's nasty." I made a face as I pushed the foul cup from me.

"Never had a beer before?" She asked. I shook my head. "You must have been sheltered."

"The only one in my family who drinks is my grandfather." I told her.

Dylan raised her eyebrow, but didn't respond. I downed the rest of the cup, keeping myself from gagging.

"Atta boy!" Dylan cheered as she grabbed a beer for her and handed me another one.

Several beers later, I was starting to feel good. Dylan started dancing, grinding up on me. My hands moved down to her swaying hips, knowing if she slapped me, it would be worth it. She didn't stop me. I lost track of time in the midst of the fun and the alcohol as we enjoyed the night.

I groaned as the sun beamed into my hotel room, blurry eyed and sore. My head was pounding and my stomach was nauseous.

"Ow." I said, rubbing my temples.

I heard another groan next to me as Dylan rolled over to her side facing me.

"Shhh, Connor, just a few more hours." She moaned, curling up and draping an arm across me.

Somehow, inexplicably, this woman stayed. I had expected it to be a prank, to wake up and had a man in bed or something along those lines. Instead, this raven haired beauty nuzzled against my chest, moaning contently.

Maybe Austin was the best decision I ever made.


	9. Chapter 9

I laid quietly next to Dylan for another hour, still unable to not believe it wasn't a dream. When her lavender eyes fluttered open, I couldn't help but smile.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"My head feels like someone was trying out Garvin stomps." I said with a grin. "Other than that, I'm good."

"I want you to know, this is very unusual for me. I don't sleep with my trainees, especially fresh to the camp ones."

I swallowed hard and nodded.

"There's just something about you, Connor...I can't put my finger on it. You're something special. All I know is that I want to be a part of it."

Her words melted me like butter. She reached out and lightly stroked my arm.

"You can have as much of a part of it as you want."

Dylan chuckled. "Such bravado. You're the greatest, Connor."

"Hey, if you don't want people to know about this, I understand."

"You don't mind seeing me in quiet?"

"Not at all." I assured her. "We all have reps to protect."

She leaned in and brushed her lips lightly against mine. When she attempted to pull away, I grabbed her and pulled her to me. She pressed her body close to mine and all thoughts left my head after that.

After she left a few hours later, I felt like kicking myself. What was I thinking of, getting into a sexual relationship with my trainer?

Every time I thought about breaking things off with Dylan, one look in her eyes stopped me. She was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me.

We had been seeing each other quietly over several months when my world came crashing around my ears. Again, because of Chicago.

"Connor, someone's here to see you." My roommate, Josie, informed me.

Dylan and I had been snuggling in bed, watching wrestling. Before I could reach for my shorts, the bedroom door burst open.

"Grandpa?" I asked, in shock.

"Connor, is it, now?" Grandpa smirked at me.

"Grandpa?" Dylan questioned.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I can explain."

"Yeah, I bet you can. Care to tell me why you never mentioned that Dean Ambrose is your grandfather?" Dylan bitterly asked.

"Dylan, it's...it's complicated." I stated.

"Jackson, we don't have time for this. You're coming with me." Grandpa said, tossing me my jeans.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." I flatly told him.

"Yes, you are. Come on, I don't have time to argue."

"Get your hearing checked, old man." Dylan fiercely told him. "Connor said he's not going anywhere."

Grandpa rolled his head to the side, the muscles and his joints popping at the action. He smirked towards Dylan, giving her a slight head shake.

"This is family, missy. Stay out of it."

"Connor said he doesn't have a family." Dylan said.

"That's right." I managed to speak up. "You turned your back on me. Why should I just willingly follow you home now?"

"Because it's not for you, nitwit. Your grandmother is sick."

The air rushed out of my lungs at his words. "Grammy?"

"Your mother will have my head for this, but I feel it's only right that you get to say goodbye."

"She's.."

"I'm afraid so, Jackson." Grandpa somberly told me.

"Jackson?" Dylan touched my shoulder, looking at me confused.

"It's a long story. One that I'll be glad to tell you when I get back." I said, swinging my legs from behind the sheets and pulling up my jeans.

"No...I think I get it. Jackson Good, right?" She asked.

I leaned down and kissed her briefly. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll tell you everything, I promise."

"No, I'm going with you." Dylan said.

"What? No." Grandpa shook his head.

"Look, old man, your entire family turned their back on him. I'm not about to let him go into the lion's den without some backup." Dylan told him.

"He won't be alone. He has me." Grandpa fired back.

"And where have you been these last few months, hm?" Dylan questioned.

Grandpa dropped his gaze, the look of shame filling his eyes.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Dylan crossed her arms over her chest. "Leave so I can get dressed."

Grandpa stuttered an apology and closed the door behind him. Dylan raised an eyebrow at me as she reached for her shirt.

"I didn't know how to tell you the truth." I began.

"Now is as good as a time to start." She said.

"I wanted to make a name for myself without my family's influence. So I left home. I got into a huge fight with my mother, who cut me off. Decided to make a brand new start, with a fresh name and everything. I'm sorry for not telling you, but I didn't want your opinion of me to change due to my family."

"I get it, trust me. We all have skeletons in the closets." Dylan sympathetically said.

"You don't have to come with me. I'll be fine." I assured her.

"Nonsense. I meant what I said. I can't let you go up there alone, knowing what I know." Dylan grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze.

We quickly got dressed and left for the airport with Grandpa. We sat in silence for what felt like eons before he broke the ice.

"I didn't turn my back on you, Jack."

"Really? Then what would you call it?" I demanded to know.

"When your mother woke up that morning and found your note...she lost it. You'll never know how bad. It took me, your granddad and your father to calm her down enough for her to call you. We were all in the room when you spoke. She...God bless your mother. She has Punk's temper. And you did sound like you were ashamed to call us family."

"That's not what I meant."

"Jackson, I know. Trust me, I've been there. But do you know what the most important thing in this world is to your mother?"

I sat in silence for several seconds before it dawned on me. Family.

"That's right." Grandpa said, reading the look on my face. "And our family name. Which you said you didn't want to be a part of."

"I'm proud of my family and everything you guys have accomplished." I told him.

"I know. You just wanted to strike out on your own. Jack, I get it. I do. I'm not saying she was in the right, but you made your mistakes in this too."

"How can I correct them? No one will return my calls?"

"Now is not the time to press the issue. Truth be told, I'm not 100% what we'll be facing when we come in in the morning."

"Thanks, Grandpa." I sourly told him.

"I'm sorry, Jackson. I'm doing my best here. Would a beer help?" Grandpa asked.

"Yeah, yeah I think it would." I sighed.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm a bundle of nerves when the plane touched down in Chicago. Dylan hands me a cigarette and pulls me towards the bar.

"You've got to pull yourself together." She told me.

"I know."

My hands still shook as she lit the cigarette. Grandpa sat next to me at the bar, smirking as he ordered us a round of beer.

"Smoking, drinking...these are habits you've picked up in Austin?" He asked.

I cut my eyes over at him. He simply shrugged as he passed me a mug.

"Kid, I'm not your dad. I'm not here to lecture you."

"You're not one for lectures." I flatly told him.

"You didn't used to be this angry, Jackson."

"Yeah, well, things change." I shrugged.

Grandpa didn't say anything, just watched me. Dylan rubbed my shoulder affectionately, giving my hand a squeeze. I finished my beer and cigarette in silence, starting to feel my nerves calm down.

The drive from the airport to my childhood home felt excruciating. For some reason, I was surprised by how much things haven't changed when we pulled into the driveway. I quickly reminded myself that I've only been gone a few months. Feels much longer than that.

"Sandy! I'm back." Grandpa called as we entered the house.

"Dean, where on Earth have-"

Mom stopped dead when her eyes locked on mine. The color drained from her face for a moment before she recovered herself.

"Hi, Mom." My voice shook slightly at the greeting.

"Jackson..."

I had expected her to yell and scream. Instead, she brushed Grandpa aside and pulled me into her arms.

"Jackson, oh, Jackson." Mom cried over and over.

I wrapped my arms around her tightly, unabashed in our mutual tears.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"I'm sorry, too, baby." She gripped me tighter.

The air rushed out of my lungs, but for a second, I didn't care. I rubbed Mom's back affectionately before I needed to pull back for breath.

"Mom, this is Dylan." I introduced.

Mom's eyes racked over Dylan for a moment, before giving a small smile and extending her hand. "Hello, Dylan."

"Hi." Dylan looked unmoved at the gesture.

"How's Grammy?" I asked, trying to break the tension.

"Oh, honey, it's...it's not looking too good." She told me, rubbing my shoulder.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Pneumonia has set in really bad. Her body isn't responding well to medicine."

I slowly nodded, feeling sick to my stomach at her words.

"Punk is still at the hospital with her?" Grandpa asked.

"You know Dad." Mom said with a slight chuckle, wiping a tear from her eyes. "He'll never leave her side. Thank you, Dean, for bringing in my boy."

I knew I should feel happy about Mom's reaction, but as she hugged my grandfather, the anger started to boil again.

"You weren't going to tell me, were you?" I asked.

"What?" Mom's head snapped around.

"You weren't going to tell me that Grammy is sick. Grandpa says she's dying."

"Jackson..." Mom looked at me, in a loss for words.

"How was I going to find out? Huh? When they announce her death on Raw? From wrestling websites? Surely not from my own mother."

The look on my mother's face was one I'll never forget. My bitter words found its mark. I couldn't have hurt her worse if I had physically assaulted her. When she didn't respond, my eyes narrowed.

"Come on, Dylan." I said, grabbing her by the hand.

"Jackson, wait!" Mom called after me.

"What?" I stopped, looking exasperated at her. "What could you possibly say to make this better?"

"I'm sorry, Jackson." Mom's voice pleaded as she reached for my elbow.

I ripped away from her, looking disgusted.

"Please, save your tears. You weren't going to tell me! Saying that you're sorry doesn't change that fact! No matter how angry you were at me, that doesn't excuse that."

"I know, and you're right. But you're here now. You're home-"

"I'm here because of Grandpa." I bitterly retort. "And this isn't home. Not anymore."

I grabbed Dylan's arm and we left the house, with Mom trailing behind us. I ignored her pleas as I climbed in my car, thankful that my keys still worked.

"Come back inside and we'll talk about this." Mom pleaded.

"And say what, Mom?" I asked.

Her face faltered. I rolled my eyes as I started the engine.

"I'll deal with you later. Right now, I want to get to Grammy."

I nearly ran over her feet as I threw the car in reverse.

"I'm proud of you, Connor." Dylan softly said as I pealed out of the neighborhood.

"Thanks." I mumbled.

"No, I'm serious. You did the right then back there, standing up to your mother. It's obvious that no one else in the family has the balls to do it."

"No, there's at least one. But I'm sure he's in no condition to fight."

"Any chance to get him on your side?"

I chuckled at the thought. "You don't know my grandfather."

"You mean, CM Punk? Are you serious?"

"Well, you met my other one."

Dylan rested her head against the window, running a free hand through her hair.

"I didn't think this through." She said.

"You alright?" I gave her a worried glance.

"Yeah, I just...it's a lot."

"I know. My family can be."

"Understatement much."

After I parked the car, I reached out and took her hand in mine. "I appreciate you being here. I know that our conversation is far from over and will completely understand if you hate me and never want to see me again, but -"

I never got to finish my thought. Dylan climbed over the front seat and straddled me. I knew I should have protested when she began to move, but that thought died too.

"I want you, not your family. Here's just a little reminder of that."

I've had sex in a car before, but never like this. We placed a blanket over the window to keep out prying eyes. Afterward, we straightened ourselves up, walking into the hospital with my head raised slightly higher, even if it was just from the aftermath.

"Jackson?" It was my little sister that saw me first. The rest of my family's eyes swung over to me, instantly freezing.

"Relax. Mom know's I'm here. She's probably trailing behind me even as I speak." I waved them off.

Mackenzie ran over and jumped into my arms. I returned her hug briefly, before making my introductions.

"And this is Dylan." I explained.

"I'm his girlfriend." She spoke up.

I managed to hid my surprise behind my smile as she shook everyone's hands.

"How is she?" I asked the group.

"She's weak, very sick. Doctor's don't say she has much time left." Skylar told me.

I nodded, giving my little brother a pat on his shoulder before leaving to see her.

I knew she would be weak, but nothing could have prepared me for it. I had never seen my grandmother look so frail before. She appeared to be sleeping, but it was hard to tell. My grandfather didn't say anything as I pulled up a chair opposite of him.

My grandmother's eyes fluttered open, smiling when she saw me.

"Is this a dream?" She asked, looking over at Granddad.

"No, Krissy." Granddad responded, his voice cracking.

"I'm here, Grammy." I said, holding her hand and bringing it to my cheek.

"Oh, Jackson. I'm so glad you're here. Now the whole family is complete again."

"Not quite, Grammy. But I'm here for now." I told her.

"We're all here for now, Jackson. And soon, I won't be."

"Grammy, no. Don't talk-"

"Hush, boy." She admonished me, but there was no conviction in her voice. "Don't be hard on us. We all love you very much."

"I love you, Grammy."

She gave me a weak smile before turning her attention towards Granddad.

"And you, cut the boy some slack. You made a ton of mistakes at his age. The time for holding grudges is gone, P. No one can live in anger."

With tears in my grandfather's eyes, he nodded.

"Jackie, I'm sorry for everything. I tried to talk some sense into them, but I was outnumbered."

"Grammy, I don't blame you. It's okay." I honestly told her.

"Your mother is stubborn, hard headed, and isn't used to being wrong. She knows, Jack. She loves you more than words."

"Grammy, save your strength, alright?" I softly told her.

"No, I don't have-" Her words were cut off by a vicious cough. Granddad held her as the cough subsided, giving her a sip of water when she was done.

"You're going to be the greatest out of all of us, Jack. As long as you don't lose sight of who you are. I'll always be with you. I'll get to watch the show from the best spot in the house." Grammy said with a grin.

I couldn't think of a response. Instead, I brushed her white hair from her face and gave her a weak smile as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I promised her I wouldn't forget. A little while later, it was time to say my goodbyes.

"I'll see you in the morning. I love you." I told her as I bent down to kiss her.

"I love you too, Jackson. Always." She told me.

As I turned to leave, I heard her say to my grandfather. "That boy is the best out of all of us. Mark my words."

I never got to keep my promise to my grandmother. She died a few hours later.


	11. Chapter 11

I watched as my granddad spoke in front of the congregation at Grammy's funeral.

"What's there to be said about Krissy that I haven't already said thousands of times? She was the best part of me. The best part. I've never met anyone that could stop me like her. Even when I would get on a roll, which was often." Granddad smirked. "Krissy always knew how to keep my focus. We've accomplished everything we set out to do together, as a team. We even entered the Hall of Fame at the same time. I honestly don't know what I'm going to do without her."

I've never seen him so broken before. Mom had told me a story once, when Grammy nearly died. I was just a baby at the time. They went for a run and was hit by a car. She pushed him out of the way to take the brunt of the impact, nearly costing her life in the process. Mom lamented that she was afraid of what would happen to him if Grammy died.

The look in his eyes now, I could see why. He was so vacant, barely holding himself together. Not the man that I spent my entire life looking up to and admiring.

Dylan stayed by my side, ignoring the rather chilly reception we had gotten from my family in the meantime. The time would come to hash out our difference, but not at a funeral.

Maybe I should forgive my mother. Grammy told me she didn't want anyone to hold grudges. I should honor her request. I was just having a difficult time letting go of the resentment.

Granddad sobbed loudly as the casket closed on Grammy, taking her out of our viewing for the final time. Mom rushed to his side, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could. I walked solemnly beside the casket as a bearer, unable to look any of my family members in the eyes. I was afraid if I did, I would lose my temper. The last thing I needed was to get into a fight at a cemetery.

The funeral was a beautiful service, fitting for such a lovely lady that played a huge importance in so many lives. People I hadn't seen in years showed up to pay their respects. I watched as Granddad embraced with John Cena, both men clinging to the other as they cried. Virtually a whos-who of wrestling stars from when Grammy was active and others that she had helped out in their careers came out to honor her.

It had started to rain as the preacher said his prayers to conclude the ceremony. Dylan and I hung back as the crowd dissipated.

"I can't believe she's really gone." I quietly said.

"I didn't know her personally, but she was a very special woman. She will certainly be missed by the wrestling community." Dylan gently said, giving my hand a squeeze.

"Jackson." I heard my mother's voice from behind me.

I closed my eyes for a second before turning around to face her.

"Do you really want to do this now?" I asked.

"Come home, son. Please." Mom pleaded with me.

"Why should I?" I asked.

"Jackson, this is the time for family. Please, son." Dad joined beside Mom, offering his hand.

"You two are unbelievable. You're speaking to me about family togetherness? In a cemetery." I challenged.

"Jackie, we made our mistakes. We want to make amends. Please, hear us out." Dad said.

"Like you heard me out. Right." I snorted.

"I deserve your anger, not your father or anyone else." Mom said.

"I almost would agree with you, if they didn't go along with you. I know where I stand. I know where I belong. And it's not with you. Come on, Dylan."

I held her close to me as we turned our backs on my parents.

"Jackson Dean Good!" My mother shouted.

I stopped in my tracks, feeling a shiver run down my spine. I let go of Dylan's hand and slowly turned around.

"I came to my senses too late. Don't repeat the same mistake." Mom urged.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Dean went to get you and I didn't know it. I called you to tell you about her but you guys were already in the air. I wasn't going to let you find out the harsh way. I'm sorry, Jackson. I made a mistake and have regretted it every day for the last several months." Mom told me.

"We need to stop this, Jackson. Open the lines of communication again." Dad pleaded.

I stood out in the rain, my hands thrust deep in my pockets, giving them both a hard look. Dylan puts a gentle hand on my shoulder, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

"You told me that your grandmother's wish was to stop this. Maybe it's time to listen."

Maybe.

Looking at the tortured look on my parents face nearly tore my heart apart. I sighed deeply, hesitating for a moment before nodding.

"Alright." I relented. "But I'm not coming home just yet. I'm happy in Austin. I'm doing good."

"He really is. You would be proud of him." Dylan chimed in.

"I'm always proud of my son." Mom flatly said.

"Mom, come on. None of that. If you want to make amends, then let's make amends. Don't attack Dylan."

"I didn't attack-"

Dad put a hand on Mom's shoulder as she took a step forward. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Alright, I'm sorry. You're right. Can we go somewhere dry to talk?"


	12. Chapter 12

"Ladies and Gentleman, Delta flight 305 non-stop from Chicago to Austin boarding is now boarding for rows 1-9." The announcement rang out over Dylan's and my heads.

Wordlessly, we grab our bags and board the plane. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, just ready to be back in Texas.

"You can relax now. It's over with." Dylan said, placing her hand on the inside of my knee.

"I know." I sighed.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

My mind flashed back to the last conversation I had with my parents before we left. It wasn't pretty, but we made it through.

We had back to the house to talk over coffee. Surprisingly enough, everyone had made themselves scarce for the uncomfortable conversation.

"So, you're really happy in Austin?" Mom began.

"Yep." I sucked on my bottom lip.

"You would be really proud of him." Dylan said, covering her hand with mine. "He's been listening to the program, keeping up with his work outs and routines. He shows a lot of promise."

"Dean says that you call yourself Connor." Mom pursed her lips together in disapproval.

"Connor Jackson." I stated, stirring sugar into my cup.

"At least you kept a bit of yourself."

"Sandy." Dad automatically said.

"I'm sorry." Mom waved her hands in front of her. "What have you been doing?"

"I work in a grocery store. Got a roommate, who keeps to herself. Training is going well."

"Got any friends other than Dylan here?"

"Sandy." Dad sharply said.

"I didn't mean that how it came out." Mom apologetically said.

"Alright." I said with a shrug. "Yeah, I got friends. Like I said, Mom, things are great. I'm holding my own pretty well."

"I can see that, Jackie. What's your trainer like?" She asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation.

I looked over at Dylan, feeling uncomfortable. She took a big gulp from her mug.

"People would say that I'm tough, but fair. Take the extra time needed when someone doesn't get a lesson. Make the trainees work hard. I don't cut slack." She admitted.

"You're dating your trainer?" Mom raised an eyebrow.

"Mom..."

"No judgement, Jackson." Mom said.

"Uh huh." I rolled my eyes as I drank the hot liquid.

"Tell me about your school, Dylan. What kind of program?" Dad asked.

"My brother and I are trainers. He works with the advanced class. We work together and created a program to get the most out of our future wrestlers. We have come up with a program and routine to help Connor maximize his time in the gym as well as nutrition and give suggestions as to who to watch in wrestling." Dylan explained.

"It's very intense and disciplined." I said.

"Sounds like." Dad noted.

"Derek has it down to a science, Dad. You should come down sometime and check it out." I encouraged.

"Derek?" Mom's head snapped up from her cup. "Derek Rose...Why does that name sound familiar?"

Dad leaned in and whispered something in Mom's ear. Mom looked a little surprised at first, then a little mad. She pulled away from Dad, who pulled her back towards him. Dylan and I exchanged nervous looks, waiting for them to separate.

Mom's brow furrowed. Dad kissed her cheek and whispered something else to her. She nodded before turning to us, smiling politely.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"Nothing to worry about." Mom brushed it off. "You wouldn't be worried that your father coming down might disrupt your setup?"

"It would, but you guys are right. I shouldn't lie to people about who I am." I said with a shrug.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that, Jackson." Dad evenly said.

We said our goodbyes a little while after. Dylan and I took a cab back to the airport. Still, the look on my parents faces as they whispered amongst themselves had me slightly worried. Not enough for me to bring it up to Dylan, but worried still.

"You look a million miles away from me. Penny from your thoughts?" She asked.

"Just glad to be leaving is all." I assured her.

She laid her head on my chest, snuggling up against me as best she could in the airline seat. Soon, the Chicago skyline was behind us, but the city and its inhabitants would still follow me to Austin.


	13. Chapter 13

Dylan became distant from me once we got home, which I had expected. Regardless of what she said when we were in Chicago, I knew there would be a falling out with her. She kept saying that she understood and wasn't mad at me, but I knew better. Her texts and visits came less and less frequent till it stopped completely. I didn't blame her. I should have admitted the truth when we got involved.

Talking with my parents became easier after a week. I know things will never be the same as before I left, but at least we have a fresh start as well.

I did come clean about my background with the training class after I got back into my routine. Everyone was very accepting of the truth, even started to pick on me about it after a day or so.

Training had been going well. The program had been really working for me, helping me gain twenty pounds of muscle. Wrestling had been coming easier as well.

With the exception of losing Dylan, everything has been going great.

Until it wasn't.

I was surprised when I came into training one day to see Derek's best friend Ben in the ring and not Dylan.

"Dylan not feeling well?" I asked as I laced up my wrestling boots.

"You can say that, Con Man." Ben said.

Ah, yes, my new nickname. Con Man.

The others arrived and we started our warm ups. Dylan slid in unnoticed by anyone but me and sat down on the bleacher. Odd.

Ben blew a whistle and told us to take a knee. Dylan climbed up in the ring addressed us.

"Sorry I wasn't here when training started, guys. I have an announcement to make. Ben is going to be taking over training for the foreseeable future." Dylan stated.

"What?" Several of us exclaimed in unison.

"No offense, Ben, but what's going on?" Michael asked.

My heart sank into my stomach as Dylan and Ben smiled towards each other, holding hands.

"I'm pregnant." Dylan announced.

I lost feeling in my lower extremities. Several of the guys jumped up to congratulate her, but I couldn't move. I barely heard Ben utter the words that felt like a sword through my heart.

"And we're getting married."

Dylan. Pregnant and getting married.

For one moment, I felt frozen. Numb to the core. The next moment, a fire replaced the ice in the pit of my belly.

There's no way that she could have gotten knocked up that fast after she stopped seeing me. She had to have been seeing both of us for a while. Which means that there is a chance the baby could be mine.

I couldn't look at her. Mixture of shame and anger rumbled under my surface, which I carried with me through the rest of the training.

"Jackson, not sure what got into you today, but great intensity in the ring." Ben told me, slapping me on the shoulder.

"Thanks." I muttered, bending down to unlace my boots.

Outwardly, I kept myself in check. Mentally, I wanted to break him in half.

"Can I talk to you?" I heard Dylan ask beside me.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I flatly told her.

"Come on, Jackson. Please?"

My head snapped up in anger. The look in my eyes caused her to turn away.

"Now you want to talk?" I bitterly asked.

"Can we do this in private? Please?" Dylan pleaded.

"Whatever." I sourly said.

Whatever she had to say, it was going to be for her benefit, not mine. The sooner she got whatever she wanted to say off her chest, the faster I could put it and her behind me.

We went silently to a nearby park. Dylan went straight for the swings, sitting down and motioning for me to join her. The hard look on my face made her cringe but she attempted to reach out to take my hand anyway. The hurt on her face when I pulled away was unmistakable.

"Okay, so you've done the math." She softly said.

"What the hell, Dylan?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry, Jackson." Dylan's voice broke. "I should have told you about Ben."

"Does he know about me?" I asked.

"No." Dylan shook her head.

"Of course he doesn't." I bitterly said.

I was a fool. Here I thought that she and I had something. I was just the guy on the side.

"I'm sorry," She repeated. "When we first started seeing each other-"

"Secretly." I interrupted.

"R..right. I wasn't expecting this to be anything. But you became so much more to me than just someone I was seeing."

"No, sleeping with." I corrected. "You were seeing Ben. Sleeping with me behind his back."

"I should have told you-"

"Do you know if the baby is his?" I cut her off again.

She stared at me for a few moments, her lavender eyes blinking wildly before she swallowed hard.

"I stopped seeing Ben shortly before we went to Chicago." She admitted.

That stopped me. I gripped the chains of the swing, realizing what she was meaning.

The baby is mine.

"You're unbelievable." I flung my words at her.

"I know." She hung her head.

"You're seriously going to marry that guy and saddle him with my kid?!"

"Jackson, you're just a kid yourself. Ben is in his early thirties, he has a good job. He can take care of me and the baby."

"Our baby." I snapped.

"No, my baby." Dylan corrected. "You won't have any part of this."

And then it dawned on me. She found out that she was pregnant and chose Ben, knowing that I'm the father.

"You're making a mistake." I told her.

"I'm doing what's best for my family. Don't cause any trouble, Jackson. You'll only be opening yourself up for a world of hurt."


	14. Chapter 14

Dylan didn't know me if she thought that I was going to let this go. Going to let my child be raised by another man? I don't think so.

I started to put my plan into motion. I had already told Josie that I would be moving out of the apartment. I had no intention on staying in Texas. I found a place and a training school in North Carolina that was gaining buzz that I would be moving to in a month's time.

I don't think she realized who she was messing with.

I wasn't going to be vindictive. This was, in fact, a woman that I cared a lot about who was pregnant with my child. But I wasn't going to ignore her wrongdoings because I still had feelings for her. I wanted to bide my time before I would put my plan into motion, give her time to change her mind.

She didn't.

I wanted to make one last plea with her before I would contact a lawyer. I knew that would hurt her but I couldn't just let it go like she said she wanted. I stopped by the office in hopes to convince her one last time.

As I got to the door, I heard her and Derek talking. I paused, deciding against knocking on the door. I pressed my ear to the wood and listened in.

"You mean to tell me that you had Sandy Brooks' kid trapped and you let him go? What were you thinking, Dylan?" Derek demanded.

"He's a good kid with a bright future. I couldn't do that to him."

"This was the chance that we've been waiting on for a while. A chance to get back at her."

"Your lust for revenge is aimed at his mom, not him. Don't ruin this guy's life, Derek."

"You sound like you have real feelings for him."

"That's my business." Dylan snapped.

"May I remind you that you're engaged to my best friend?"

"You're the one that set me up with Ben. I never wanted this for myself."

"Like you haven't been enjoying yourself. Now, you need to fix this with the kid."

"You need to let this go, Derek."

"Dylan, do this for me. Hell, do this for us. Just do it right. Don't fuck this up."

The harsh tone in his voice didn't deter Dylan.

"You are not my father!"

"No, of course not. Mom and Dad are dead. It's just you and me now. Do you know what this could mean? A chance to destroy Brooks from within her own home. Think about it, Dylan."

"I have thought about it. Keep your nose out of this, Derek. I mean it. Not one word to Ben and you leave Jackson alone."

I hurried away from the door, not wanting to listen to any more.

I came back an hour later, to find Dylan alone in the office. She looked up at me unexpectedly, trying to hide the fact that she'd been crying.

"Hey, Jackson." She said in a voice I didn't recognize.

"Dylan, you need to tell Ben the truth." I stated.

"I know." She sighed. "I thought I could pull this off but I can't."

She folded her arms in front of her, looking slightly disheveled. I wondered how the rest of the conversation went with her brother. Judging by the look in her eye, I didn't want to know.

"Why does your brother hate my mother so much?" I asked.

"What?" Her eyes filled with alarm. "Derek doesn't hate her."

"Yeah, he does. He's gone off about her to me before he knew I was her son."

"Jackson." Dylan sighed. "Derek knew. He always knew."

"What?"

"Derek knew who you were when you came to him for training. It's one of the reasons why he took you on."

The look in her eyes gave me a sinking feeling. I didn't want to ask the question looming in my mind, but I knew it would eat at me if I didn't.

"Did your brother put you up to us?"

Dylan tore her eyes away, looking down at her hands. I groaned in disgust.

"You've got to be kidding me."

No wonder she had been so accepting of everything that started when Grandpa showed up. I had been set up from the beginning.

"You two manipulated me. What was your end game, hm? Did you plan for me to get you knocked up? Or are you lying about being pregnant too?"

"No, I am pregnant and no this wasn't planned." Dylan said defensively. "I wouldn't purposely bring a child into this world as a manipulation tactic. I care about you, Jackson. Yes, my brother pushed me into having a relationship with you, but my feelings for you are real. I felt sick about conning you after we got back from Chicago. That's why I broke it off with you. And then I found out that I was pregnant and kinda had to get back with Ben."

"You didn't have to. You could have come to me."

"You're not ready to be a father. You're barely a man." Dylan fired back.

"So you say. But man enough for you to sleep with. Man enough to feel my heart breaking in my chest."

I stared unmoved as a tear fell down her cheek.

"I was going to ask you to come with me to North Carolina." I told her.

"You...you're leaving?"

"You expected me to stay?" I scoffed.

"No...I...I guess not."

"So come with me. Or are you planning on staying a tool in whatever game your brother is playing?"

Dylan looked up at me with fire in her eyes. She balled up her hands into fists, looking like she was ready to take my head off.

"Get mad at me all you want. Maybe it's because you know I'm right. Dylan, I care about you. I want to be with you. If you want to really be with me. But we need to trust each other, and right now, I don't. I'm not sure what your brother has against my family, but I'm not going to be a pawn in his game. Neither should you."

She sighed, relaxing her stance.

"You're right."

"So you'll think about it?"

"Can I have a week?"

I nodded. "One week. Let me know."


	15. Chapter 15

I waited a week for Dylan, like I had promised. I didn't have high hopes that she would change her mind and come with me, but there was still a good chance, I felt.

I spent my time training and getting everything ready for my move. By the middle of the week, I heard that Dylan broke the news to Ben. It was hard for me to get any information after that. Dylan didn't return any of my calls or texts. I figured that she just needed some time to herself.

By the end of the week, I still hadn't heard from her. I guess she had made her choice.

I said my goodbyes to Austin and left with a heavy heart. I arrived in Burlington, North Carolina, determined to put Austin behind me and focus on wrestling.

The Carolina Wrestling Federation was an impressive place. They ran two shows a month and had training in their building three times a week. The setup impressed me. I met up with the head trainer, Jeff, who I liked instantly. He introduced me to Roy and Trevor, who helps with the training classes. Jeff's partner, Danny, runs the day to day operations. They have a third partner, Brad, who runs the shows.

My roommate was a guy who had been working with CWF for several years named Lee. I became grateful that he offered to take me under his wing.

"Kinda nice to have a celebrity around here." Lee joked.

"Oh, I'm far from one." I said with a noncommittal shrug.

"You're the talk of the locker room. Lots of guys are eager to see what you can do in the ring." Lee told me.

"Because of my parents." I dismissively told him.

"Dude, you got a chip on your shoulder the size of Virgina, which I don't get. Your parents are cool, man. You were raised in a warm home, you got to be on the road a lot and experience a ton of cool shit that no one else gets to. So what's your problem?"

"It's hard to know if someone wants to be friends with you because they genuinely like you or because they think you can help their career."

"I dunno about that, dude. But if you want to fit in around here, better let that go. No one cares who your daddy is. You're the talk of the locker room simply because you're new around here."

"Seriously?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm tellin' ya, man. Let that shit go or you'll get bogged down real quick." Lee advised.

My first day of training went surprisingly well, in my opinion. I liked Roy a hell of a lot more than Trevor, but I still listened to him. He was only slightly older than me, but he was arrogant and cocky. Still, he seemed to know what he was doing. That had to be why Jeff was letting him train the rookie class with Roy.

"Good job today, Jackson." Jeff said, slapping me on the shoulder.

"Thanks." I said with a nod.

"Got to admit, I wasn't sure what to make of you at first. Especially coming from Austin like you had."

"What do you mean?" I stopped short as I was throwing my boots in my bag.

"You heard about your old school, right?" Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No." I shook my head. "Something happened?"

"Yeah, a bunch of the guys in the advanced class got busted for steroid use. Claimed their trainer, Derek Rose, forced them on a cycle. Commission shut the school down." Jeff shook his head. "Such a shame. This is a big scandal that will follow most of them."

"Steroids? Are you freaking kidding me?"

"Steroids are illegal for a reason. Jackson, I trust you aren't messing around with that stuff. The only drugs around here is pot, which isn't going to kill you." Jeff told me.

I immediately made a face. "No way in hell I would touch that stuff."

"Glad to hear it. You don't want to get mixed up in that mess."

"Do you know what happened?" I inquired.

"Yeah, seems the state commission got a tip and investigated. The came in and tested everyone randomly." Jeff told me.

An anonymous tip? I didn't even know that this had been going on. I wonder who told the commission and had the school shut down.

Without meaning to, my thoughts floated over to Dylan. Wonder how she was affected or if she even knew about the dirty practices of her brother. Now I'm glad I got out when I did before I got involved too deep.

Later that night, I tried to call Dylan again but still received no answer. I hope to God that she isn't wrapped up in whatever schemes her brother was involved in. I called a friend Michael, who had been in the beginner's class with me, to see if he could give me any word on her.

"Are you serious, bro? You're calling me about Dylan?" Michael sounded amazed.

"I just need to know if everything is alright." I told him.

"Of course nothing is alright. First, Dylan is in the hospital because of you. Second, your mother is the one who called the cops on Derek. All this is your fault, man."

My blood ran cold at his words. "What are you talking about?"

"That so-called anonymous tip came from your mother, man. Never figured you for a rat."

"I didn't even know what was going on. I was completely shocked to hear about it." I defended.

"Riiight. Which is why you happen to run off to North Carolina of all places before the raid went down."

"Serious, I had nothing to do with it. Tell me about Dylan."

"Dylan told Ben the truth: she didn't want to marry him and that the baby was yours. Said she was leaving with you. Ben wouldn't have that so..."

"Ben put Dylan into the hospital?!"

"She was beaten up pretty bad. He made her miscarry."

That's all I needed to hear. I hung up on Michael and caught the next flight to Austin.


	16. Chapter 16

It was hot and rainy when the plane touched down in Austin. I wasted no time in hailing a cab to get me to the hospital.

I was barely able to keep my voice steady as I asked a nurse where Dylan was. My outward expression may have been calm and steady, but my heart was pounding hard against my chest. I nearly ran down the hallway to her door, pausing to take a deep breath before pushing it open.

Seeing her did nothing to ease my thumping heart. She was asleep, connected to a few different machines. I quietly pulled up a chair and took her hand in mine.

She was battered. Bruises had started to heal, blemishing her otherwise perfect skin with yellowish-purple marks. I could tell that her nose had been broken and set back. She looked like she was having a little difficulty in breathing, evidence of some bruised ribs.

If I ever saw Ben again, I'll make sure he ends up in a hospital bed.

Dylan groaned, slowly stirring in her sleep. I gave her a reassuring squeeze, which she returned.

"Jackson?" She murmured.

"I'm here." I told her.

I stood up, brushing some of her jet black hair from her face. I bent down and gently brushed my lips against her forehead.

"Hi." Her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm sorry I'm just now getting here. I didn't know."

"It's okay. I know." She hoarsely told me.

I helped her take a sip of water from a cup next to the stand. She sat up the best she could, looked pained.

"I should have been there. I'm so sorry." I told her.

"Jackson, it's not your fault. I'm just glad you're here now."

"Believe me, I had nothing to do-"

"I'm the one that alerted the commission. I just heard that some are blaming your mom. I'm sorry for that." She told me.

"You? You turned your brother in?" I asked, bewildered.

"There's a lot more that I could have alerted the authorities about. Believe me, Derek is getting off easy."

"Why?"

"Because you were right. I was tired of being under his boot, letting me control him. I wanted to run off with you and make a clean start so I came up with a plan. I called the commission on Derek and told Ben the truth."

"Why didn't you tell me what you were planning?"

"I wanted to protect you, Jackson."

"I don't need protection." I sternly said.

"I made this mess, Jackson. I wanted to be the one to clean it up." She told me.

"If I ever see Ben again-"

"Can we not? Can't we just go, leave all this behind?" She implored me, squeezing my hand.

"He made you lose our baby." I flatly said.

"I know." She took a deep breath in. "I know. And it hurts, but the way I look at it, it just wasn't our time. It wasn't meant to be this go around. But there will be a time in the future when we are ready. Let's just focus on our future, instead of the past."

"You really mean that? A fresh start?" I asked.

"Absolutely. Let's go to North Carolina, like you said."

I eagerly nodded. "I think you'll like it there."

"I don't care, I just want to be where you are."

I leaned down to kiss her again, my heart swelling as she kisses me back. I stayed with her until the nurse sent me out hours later, telling me that Dylan needed her rest. I checked into a hotel, giving my dad a call to let him know what was going on.

"Son, just please be careful." Dad implored.

"Everything's okay, Dad." I reassured him. "I'll be back in Burlington in a day or so."

"For what it's worth, you're doing the right thing by Dylan."

"Thanks, Dad."

Dylan was getting released from the hospital the following day. I showed up with roses in hand to pick her up.

My blood ran cold as I saw Ben in the lobby.


	17. Chapter 17

Ben's eyes flashed in anger when he saw me.

"Good, what the hell are you doing here?" Ben asked.

"You sorry son of a bitch!" I yelled.

I launched myself at him. My fist found its mark against his jaw before he could react. He crumbled to the ground, holding his mouth.

The roses I had gotten for Dylan fell to the wayside as I punched and kicked as hard as I could at my target. All too soon, the hospital staff pulled me off of Ben. I looked down at his unconscious body, feeling satisfied as the blood ran freely from the corner of his mouth.

I yelled for them to let me go, but the men had a strong grip on my arm. My arms were yanked behind my back as I was placed in handcuffs.

"Let me go!" I hollered.

"Kid, don't make this worse on yourself." An officer murmured low in my ear.

I was forced into a squad car after I was read my rights. Begrudgingly, I used my phone call to call home. I sat in a cell for several hours until I heard my mother's voice echo in the hall.

"Jackson Dean Good." My mother sternly said, hands high on her hips.

"Hi, Mom." I sheepishly said.

"Don't you 'Hi, Mom' me. Assault? What on Earth were you thinking?"

"It's a long story." I told her.

"I have half a mind to leave you in here, young man."

"Mom, please cut me a little slack." I implored.

"Cut you a...Sammy, are you hearing him?" Mom turned as Dad walked towards the cell.

"I hear him, Sandy." Dad placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Jackson?"

"It was Ben, Dad." I told him.

"I'm aware, Jack." Dad shook his head. "You're in real hot water."

"I know, but can't you guys help me out?"

"Listen to you." Mom scoffed. "Six months ago, you didn't want to have anything to do with this family-"

"Mom..."

"And now you come to us for help?"

"Does that mean you won't?" I asked.

Mom sighed, her lips pressed tightly together. Dad rubbed her shoulders as she gazed hard at me before her expression began to soften.

"Of course we're going to help, Jackie. I just wish I knew what this was about."

"The guy, Ben, beat up my girlfriend pretty awful." Was the shortest, simplest answer I could think of.

"Oh, Jackson." Mom's eyes completely softened into her usual warm chocolate brown. "I get you are wanting to stick up for Dylan, but there are other ways-"

"You don't know what he did to her, Mom. I'm sorry, but I failed to protect her once. I won't fail her again." I sharply said.

"Jackson?" I heard Dylan's voice behind my parents.

I hung my head as she approached. Her little hand slid in the bars, caressing the back of mine.

"I thought we were going to let it go and head to Burlington?" She asked.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But when I came to pick you up and saw him..."

"Jackson, I...I know. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" I asked.

"I wish I knew." She bashfully said. "I can just imagine how it felt seeing him like that."

My parents exchanged a look I didn't recognize. I simply shrugged.

"Mad enough to get me in here, I guess."

"Well, you kept true to your word. He's in the hospital."

"That's swell." I flatly said.

"Broken nose, misaligned jaw, and a broken rib." She informed me.

I tried hard to suppress my grin at the roll call of injuries, which didn't escape my mother.

"You shouldn't take pleasure in that." Mom admonished.

"You're one to talk. Didn't you beat the crap out of some chick before?" I threw at her.

Mom flushed. "That was me defending my family."

"Yeah, well, I was too." I told her.

Dad disappeared to talk to the officer, leaving me alone with the two women in uncomfortable silence.

"So, Dylan." Mom cleared her throat. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Dylan simply said.

"How are things with work?" I asked.

"Good. Stressful." Mom thoughtfully said.

Several more minutes pass quietly. We all jumped when Dad came back in.

"Alright, kid, you're released." The officer told me.

"Thanks." I muttered as the door swung open.

I don't know how my parents did it, but I was in court the following day. Even though Ben was not backing down, the judge took pity on me. I don't know if it was my story that swayed her or if she was a wrestling fan, but she dropped the charges against me, letting me off with a warning. Dylan and I were able to leave for Burlington several days later.


	18. Chapter 18

Things in Burlington were going great. Lee had no problem with Dylan moving in with us. We settled in nicely with the CWF crew.

The CWF locker room was a tight knit bunch. It took a few months, but they all wove me in. The three principle owners I got along with great. Jeff Rudd was a twenty year veteran who had trained several guys that are currently employed in the WWE. Mom had nothing but great things to say about him. Danny Winkle was the business manager in charge of the money. Brad Stutts, who everyone called Stuttsy, was in charge of the talent and running the shows.

Stuttsy was an interesting guy. At 30-years-old, he had a grasp of wrestling that I hadn't seen before. His passion ran deep and was a walking encyclopedia of knowledge. He used to manage a group in CWF but since he started running the shows, had taken on a different role of commentator for the shows that air online. His verbal abilities were top notch. His wife, Katie, was fantastic. She was the top referee in North Carolina, definitely one of the boys. She was den mother to most of the locker room, a role she seemed to embrace. How an overweight, cantankerous guy like him got a wonderful girl like her was beyond me.

Training was going great as well. As much as I didn't like Trevor, I did respect him and he had taught me a lot. Because of my height, they didn't want me to ref.

"You look too much like a wrestler." Jeff told me.

Stuttsy had me regulated to working security for the shows. Dylan was wrestling regularly. Life seemed to be going good for us.

"Alright, Jackson." Stuttsy said, sitting me down after one of the shows. "Trevor says that you're getting close to being ready to work. Got an idea for you."

My eyes lit up at his words. I had been waiting for this.

"I'm going to put you in a program with Trevor to start. I think it'll be really good." Stuttsy told me.

"Awesome, would love that." I nodded.

"So the fans have been watching you the last month or so. They know you're security and all that. So in two weeks, Trevor and Nick will brawl and you'll break it up. Trevor will get up in your face. You will have a confrontation and we'll go from there."

"Great, man. I appreciate it." I told him, shaking his hand.

"Don't thank me just yet. Trevor will test your skills. Don't let him take liberties with you because you are a rookie." Stuttsy warned.

I quickly learned what Stuttsy meant. The Trevor I trained with was vastly different from the Trevor I was in the ring with.

The confrontation was easy enough. Trevor wrestled Nick, who squeaked by with a victory that Trevor yelled was a fluke before jumping on him. With two other trainees acting as security, I rushed the ring to pull Trevor off of Nick.

I wrapped my arms around Trevor's waist, yanking him backwards. As soon as I let go, Trevor spun around to face me.

"Keep your hands off of me, rook!" Trevor yelled, shoving hard against my chest.

I moved, but only a little. His lips twitched as I glowered, obviously not impressed with the guy at least five inches shorter than me getting up in my face.

"Who do you think you are, huh?" Trevor asked, getting back in my face. "I'm Trevor Lee! You're nothing!"

A small smile curled at the corner of my mouth. I rolled my neck, feeling the muscles pop, before shoving Trevor to his ass. The crowd quickly got behind me as Trevor scrambled away.

I turned my back to him, giving him the opportunity to jump on me. He wrapped his legs around my stomach, his arms around my neck.

"You're going down, big man!" Trevor hollered.

I smirked, lifting my arms straight out to the side to show that the little man had no effect on me. I swung him off of me, which he landed swiftly on his feet.

Angry that I had gotten the better of him, Trevor jumped up to the top turnbuckle and landed with a knee strike against the side of my head. I went down hard on the mat. He stood over me until the other security pulled me out of the ring.

Trevor couldn't have been more excited as we sat in the locker room.

"The crowd ate that up! And you took the knee strike well." Trevor said, slapping me on the shoulder.

I gave him a small smile before sitting down with a water bottle. While it was indeed fun, Trevor was a bit more intense than I had thought. I could feel my neck start to bruise from when he gripped me and my head started to hurt from the knee strike.

Nick sat down next to me, shaking his head while Trevor continued to praise himself for how good he was tonight.

"Is he always like this?" I asked.

"Oh yeah. Trevor's really good. The problem is, he knows it. He's cocky, arrogant, and can back it up in the ring." Nick told me.

He said that most rookie's feel intimidated by Trevor. I took it as a challenge to knock the little man down a peg or two in our match.


	19. Chapter 19

I stood behind the curtain, rolling my neck to release the tension. My first match. I could barely contain my excitement and my fear. But I couldn't let nervousness play a roll in the ring tonight. I took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves I could feel jumbling up.

Of course, I didn't have much to fear. Trevor told me several times he wasn't going to let us have a bad match. And we had gone through it several times in practice.

"Good luck." Nick told me, slapping me on the shoulder. I muttered a word that sounded similar to 'thanks' as the recap from the pull-a-part as well as the promos we shot aired on the screen.

"Who are you to get up in my face? Huh? I'm Trevor Lee! I run the CWF. You're just a security guard. Maybe you need a lesson in just how things go around here. You think you're bad because you're tall and have muscles? That doesn't make you a wrestler, kid. Step into the ring with me, if you are man enough. Let's see what you got." Trevor challenged.

"You ask the question: Who am I? My name is Jackson Moxley and you are looking into the face of the man who will knock you down from your high horse. Trevor Lee, you may be able to push around other guys in the back, but not me. I'm not afraid of you. You're just a little man with a Napoleon complex. And what does history say about Napoleon? See you in the ring, Trevor."

I sounded so confident in the promo. A small grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. This was going to be fun.

The crowd roared as I stepped onto the stage. I posed to the crowd before leaning against a turnbuckle, waiting on Trevor.

The loud chorus of boo's resonated in the building as Trevor came out. We locked eyes as he entered the ring, the small smile on my lips turning into a smirk.

We stood toe to toe in the center of the ring. Trevor stomped the mat when I pointed out that I was clearly a foot than him. He extended an arm into the air, suggesting that we do a test of strength. I shrugged toward the crowd before accepting his hands.

He tried to twist my hands, but I remained steady. I flicked my wrists to the sides and he went down on both knees. I dropped one arm, chopping him across the chest. He rolled backwards, showing off the newly visible hand print on his hairless chest.

I turned my back to him, looking at the crowd. Trevor ran up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, attempting to suplex me. He grunted and groaned as he tried to dig his feet into the mat, but I didn't budge. The audience laughed when I stuck my butt out, hitting him in the abs. He dropped his stance, running off the ropes to attempt to clothesline me down. I bowed my chest and he bounced off.

"This man should be tested for steroids!" Trevor yelled, pointing at me.

I just shook my head, smirking towards him, and flexed my arms. He rushed towards me, throwing a punch. I ducked as he swung around, picking him up and laying him across my shoulders into a torture rack. When he failed to submit, I dropped down to my knees, giving him a back breaker. Trevor rolled out of the ring before I could go for a cover.

One of his cronies, Chet Sterling, came out ringside. As the two were talking, I reached through the ropes and forced them to collide heads together. They both went down on the mats outside.

The fans were eating everything we were doing up. It was simple stuff, but they loved it. Trevor rolled back into the ring, avoiding a count out. He let loose a series of punches, which did daze me. This time, his clothesline did knock me down, but I kicked after the one count.

"Are you serious, ref?" Trevor admonished.

As Trevor yelled at the referee, Chet jumped up on the apron. I walked over to him and he grabbed me by the neck, and dropped down from the ring apron, giving me a jaw breaker against the ropes. Trevor jumped up on the ropes and gave me a big knee strike. Chet held my feet down as Trevor covered me, getting the win.

As soon as the bell rung, Trevor and Chet went up onto the stage, laughing at me. I chased the both into the back.


	20. Chapter 20

"To Jackson! Congratulations on a great first match." Stuttsy toasted.

We had all gone out to Applebee's after the show, to celebrate the show's success. Stuttsy even bought everyone a round of beers which seemed out of character for him.

"Here, here!" Trevor seconded.

We all clinked our glasses together, laughing and joking around.

"I'm proud of you." Dylan wrapped her around around my neck, pressing her lips against me.

"Thanks."

"You should be proud, Jackson. It was a good match." Jeff told me.

"Your dad and grandfathers loved it." Dylan stated.

"Wait, what?" I asked in surprise, turning towards her.

"I was on Facetime with them to show them the match. They were upset that they couldn't be here, but still wanted to support you." Dylan explained.

"So I had Dean and Sammy Ambrose plus CM Punk watch me wrestle." Trevor said, in awe.

"Well, technically." Dylan's ears turned pink.

"Did they say anything about me?" Trevor asked.

Dylan shook her head. "Not that I remember."

"Jackson, you should call them. See if they have any notes." Trevor encouraged.

I rolled my eyes. "Sure. Or maybe I could give you their number and you could call them yourself."

Trevor's eyes lit up. "Seriously?"

"No, man." I admonished. "Are you for real?"

But Trevor would not be deterred. He kept getting on me to call Dad, insisting that it was for my benefit instead of his. Yeah, right. After the third time I dismissed him, my phone started to buzz. Of course it would be my father.

"Hey, Dad." I greeted as I answered his request for a video chat.

"I wanna say hi!" I heard Skylar's voice in the background.

"Cut it out, Sky." Grayson's voice echoed.

"Oooh, are you talking to Jackson? I wanna talk!" Mackenzie exclaimed.

I chuckled. My siblings hadn't changed a bit.

"Hey guys." I said, waving into my camera.

"Dylan was kind enough to video chat with me so I could see your match tonight." Dad informed me.

"Yeah, she told me. What did you think?" I asked.

"Yeah, what did you think?" Trevor echoed from over my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes as Dad chuckled.

"It was a fine match. I liked that you played off of the differences between you two." Dad said.

Trevor puffed out his chest, looking incredibly proud.

"However." Dad started. I could almost feel Trevor deflate. "I think your punches need work. You rely too heavily on your knee strike. Although it is impressive, that can't be the only offense in your repertoire."

"I see." Trevor slumped behind me.

"Jackson, work on your facial expressions." Dad told me. "Other than that, I liked what you did."

"Thanks, Dad. I will." I nodded.

I wrestled Trevor again two weeks later. He really took Dad's feedback to heart, seemingly eager to prove himself. This time, when Chet attempted to interfere, it backfired on them, costing Trevor the match.

"Much better." Dad told us with a smile after the show. "You both are showing growth. Keep it up."

Trevor and I wrestled two more times during our program. Each match seemed to be better than the last. Eventually, I started talking booking at other shows in NC, always making sure I was available for CWF. Before too much longer, I was able to start branching out to shows in Virgina and South Carolina. I was wrestling every weekend and loving every minute of it.

Unfortunately, Dylan wasn't as happy as I was. I wasn't aware of how big the wedge had grown between us until I came home from a show to find her in bed with Lee.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded.

"Jackson!" Dylan scrambled for her shirt.

"You two have been sleeping together behind my back?" I questioned.

"I'm sorry. You just haven't been around much and Lee has been there for me..."

"And I haven't?" I asked.

"No, you haven't. You're barely home and when you are, you're not here. You're in the gym or your in training. You haven't been there for me emotionally."

"So instead of talking to me about this, you go and sleep with my friend?"

"Jackson, man. I'm sorry." Lee began.

"How long has this been going on?" I bitterly asked.

"For a while. I'm sorry, bro."

"No!" I was close to yelling. "Don't you sleep with my girlfriend and call me bro."

"I'm in love with her, Jackson. I tried to stop but I couldn't." Lee tried to defend himself.

My eyes narrowed, my hands balled up into fists as I gazed at them darkly. I wanted nothing more than to pounce and wail on the two of them until they hurt just as badly as I do. Instead, I slammed the door behind me and ran out of the apartment.

My life started a downward spiral after that.


	21. Chapter 21

I woke up from a stupor, still feeling in a daze. My hazy eyes glanced around the trashed hotel room, not 100% sure where I was. I glanced down at the naked blonde sleeping next to me, trying to remember what her name is.

It has been six months since I found Dylan in bed with who I thought was my friend. For a while, I felt something akin to anger and betrayal. Lately, I haven't felt anything at all.

The smell of weed, sex, and stale beer filled the tiny space in the hotel room. The ashtray was overflowing with a different mixture of cigarettes. A quick glance at my right arm showed evidence of track marks. I had to let it heal before I could see my parents.

Home. Chicago. The only place where I could be safe from myself. The last place on Earth I wanted to go.

"Get some sleep, baby." The blonde muttered.

What was her name? Ana? Amy? It started with an A, didn't it?

What does it matter? Sleep was a commodity that I didn't have. Time and sleep. When I did sleep, I always dreamt of her. That raven haired, purple eyed goddess that wrecked my world.

She haunted me. I still see wisps of her hair even in the shadows of the hotel room. Her laughter echoes in my mind, only she's not laughing for me anymore. She's either laughing at me, or laughing for him.

Maybe one of these days, I will fall asleep and not wake up. What difference would it make? No one would mourn me.

Except for a tiny voice in the back of my mind: my mother. I couldn't put her through that kind of hell. If only I could talk to her. If only I could crawl out of this pit.

My family is known as being the best in the world. My grandfather, my mother, grandmother...

I grabbed the bottle of tequila next to the floor and took a chug. Grammy. So glad she couldn't see me now.

Her voice still rings in my ears, telling Granddad that I would be the best out of all of them. How wrong she was.

Outwardly, no one knew anything was wrong. I still called home once a week to briefly chat, mainly to keep my mother off of my back. I traveled for wrestling often. I played the part that I was told I was born to play.

Right now, I didn't even know what city I was in. The pain was threatening to consume me and I was running out of excuses not to give in.

I rifled through the sleeping blonde's purse. Allison. I knew it started with an A. I lit up a cigarette and watched the sun come up through the dirty hotel room's window. Vegas. That's right, I'm in Las Vegas.

Maybe I would get lost in the abyss. Maybe I would find a reason to hold on for one more day.

That was the last thought I had before finally drifting off to sleep before a pair of purple eyes began its usual chase.


End file.
